


Clourophilia

by Sven_Wolfstrom92



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Love, M/M, Sexy Times, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:57:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sven_Wolfstrom92/pseuds/Sven_Wolfstrom92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clourophilia - Love of Clowns. . . Toby loves clowns, more specifically, he loves a certain monochromatic clown</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's been gone for awhile, Toby misses him. . . Despite his existential crisis of sorts

It was a cool misty Wednesday morning late in October, just two days shy of being Halloween. Tobias ‘Toby’ Rogers lay on his latest victim’s bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering just how and when he had managed to sink so low. It had been nearly a year since he’d 'run away' and joined the Proxies. And while he deeply enjoyed what his ‘job’ entailed, it was really starting to become monotonous. . . .

“Toby!”

“Oof!” Toby gasped as Laughing Jack pounced, landing right on top of him, “Dammit, Jack, get off me!”

“Why?” Jack inquired, sitting up and shifting to where he was properly straddling the younger killer, “You didn’t really seem to mind so much last time, kiddo, as I recalled, you actually liked that I was able to make you feel things.”

“Jack, that was six months ago,” Toby growled, willing his blush down, “You can’t just fuck me and then disappear like that, bastard.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack’s smile faded, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, kiddo, but I am bound to that stupid box, which, by the way, wound up on the back of a Fed-Ex truck. It took me four months just to get back and then it was a battle trying to find you again. You move around more than I do and that’s saying something.”

“Blame the boss,” Toby muttered, somewhat annoyed, he sighed, “I’m really glad your back, Jack, I missed you." 

“I know,” Reaching out, Jack brushed a few strands of hair out of Toby’s face with one of his claws, “I missed you too, kiddo, and I promise, next time I’m in Nebraska, I’ll bring ya back a little souvenir, you still like brunettes, right?”

Toby laughed,

“Yeah, I still like brunettes, but I like you even more.”

“Aww,” Jack’s smile returned full force, “You know, you’re such a coulrophiliac.”

“I know,” Toby mused, “But don’t worry, I’m not seeing any other clowns.”

“Good, I’d hate to have to kill ole Ronald for putting the moves on you,” Jack intoned,  playfully, leaning down to steal a kiss, placings his hands on either side of Toby’s head to balance himself, “Mm, God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Toby blushed, his cheeks coloring lightly.

They kissed again.

“So do you want to be on top or bottom this time?”

Jack grinned like the madman he was, and closed and locked the door with a wave of his hand.


	2. Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every relationship has it's up's and done

“Hey, wake the fuck up!”

Feeling something heavy hit his chest, Toby startled awake and opened his eyes to find Tim standing over him. His face concealed by the shadows of the room.

“Jesus Christ,” The older man snatched his boot back, “ You were talking up a storm, what the hell were you dreaming about?”

“N-Nothing,” Toby muttered, sitting up on his elbows, “What ti-time is it?”

“Almost four in the morning,” Going over, Tim tossed his boot in the general direction of the closet before collapsing face down on his bed, “And I’m going back to sleep.”

Toby sighed and sat up fully,

“Hey, Tim?”

“Hm?”

“Ever dream of him?”

“Him who? The boss man?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes,” Tim admitted, his voice slightly muffled by his pillow, “Kinda comes with the territory of working for him, though.”

“Will they ever stop?” Toby queried, curiously.

“Nope,” Tim rolled over onto his back, “And I think that even if the Slenderman was to return to wherever it is the he came from, we’d still have the dreams.”

“M-Maybe,” Toby agreed with a yawn; he got out of bed, “Well, I’m gonna step out for some fresh air.”

“Alright, just watch out for the rake,” Tim cautioned, “He’s been hanging around for some reason.”

“Alright,” Leaving the safety of the room they’d been sharing, Toby padded down the hallway to the stairs.

He had almost made it when he heard a noise behind him.

“Relax, it’s just me.”

Toby breathed a sigh of relief, pausing in his tracks,

“I tho-thought you were going back to sleep.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim declared, coming to a stop beside him, “And besides,” He held up the decent sized machete he'd filched from somewhere, “The rake might be hungry and the boss would kill me if I let him eat you. I'm supposed to be your security detail, remember?”

“Don't remind me,” Toby muttered and together, the two headed downstairs.

. . . .

It was a beautiful warm night late in June. A full moon lit up the clear starry sky. Illuminating the path for some deer as they cut across the front lawn of the old cabin they were currently holed up in. Toby watched and mentally counted them.

“Twelve,” He announced after a few moments of comfortable silence, causing his companion jump.

“What?”

“Deer. There’s twelve of them.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tim raised the machete as though it were a rifle, pretending to take out the last of the herd; a large buck with an impressive rack, “Fun fact for you - my dad used to take me hunting almost every weekend when I was a kid. My first kill was a ten point buck. It was the only time the bastard was ever proud of me.”

“Ten points,” Toby was kind of impressed, “Not bad.”

“Nope,” Tim lowered the machete once more, “You ever go hunting?”

“Only for people,” Toby deadpanned.

He turned to study his fellow Proxy. Without the mask that earned him his nickname, Tim looked just like any other guy pushing thirty. Steely brown eyes peered out from a handsome face that bore the signs of a life hard lived and the stubble that graced his chin made him seem older. His unruly brown hair only enhancing the effect.

“They’re too predictable,” Tim remarked, snapping Toby back to the present, “People, I mean. Just like any other animal, fear makes them mess up, drives them to do something stupid, and then BAM! They’re dead.”

“Hmm, true,” Toby mused in agreement, “Still, it’s kinda fun.”

“Yeah,” Tim turned to face him then, "So um, how are things between you and the clown?"

"Fine," Folding his arms across his chest, Toby moved to stand at the edge of the porch.

"Uh-oh, what'd he do this time?"

"Nuh-Nothing."

"Does nuh-nothing have a name?"

"How did-"

"I'm a fucking mind reader," Tim quipped, "Just answer the fucking question."

"It's Jill," Toby tentatively explained, unsure why he was even opening up to the asshole, "Jack's been spending a lot of time with her lately. But I get it, okay; he's a clown, she's a clown, they're fucking perfect for each other."

"Yeah, a match made in carnival hell," Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Why don't you just tell Pennywise how you feel? If you don't like him spending time with her, tell him and stop being such a pussy about it."

"I'm not being a pussy about it," Toby snapped, irritably, "I-I just don't know how to tell him."

Just then, before Tim could respond, there was a loud crashing sound and a moment later, the Rake came scampering out from behind the shed. Yelping in fear. A moment later, Smile Dog tore after him. Barking and snarling. And practically foaming at the mouth. Toby heaved a resigned sigh,

"Jeff's here."

"I'll go get Brian," Without waiting for a response, Tim turned and disappeared inside the cabin.

Toby sighed once more and going over, freed the hatchet he'd left buried in the cabin owner's skull. If Jeff wanted to fight before Tim returned with Brian, he'd be ready.


End file.
